The Good, the Bad, and the Pathetic

So at least for now, Charlotte and Jack have won the Least Controversial trophy.

While they are gracious (and evidently tirelessly accommodating) hosts, Joe and I dare commit a multitude of unforgivable sins.

Joe sucks the life and most of the joy out of the holiday with his latest marital SNAFU - not only because his shrew wife is a raging, unrelenting bitch with no regard for timing, but because he is so completely incapable, he has to suck all of the merrymakers into his swirling little cess pool of woe.

I breeze in and out of Charlotte and Jack's home with the greatest of ease and with observable need to apologize, hang my head in shame or tuck my tail between my shapely little legs. If anyone as expecting me to run on my sword over last year's conflict, they miscalculated the whole equation.

Joe has the nerve to want to actually see my mother on her once annual migration north, and is interfering with Bill's domination of the itinerary. How dare he?

I show up with my devastatingly handsome boyfriend who clearly adores me and is virtually flawless, and who renders all other concerns immaterial. I am spending Christmas with my wonderful children, a wonderful man I love madly, and my fabulous sister and her family, and for us, it is a big love fest. Pardon me, Bill, if I don't cower at the sight of you, and trip over my feet to make amends. I barely notice you for all of Scott's shininess.

Geez. I can hardly wait until next year!

But for now Mom and Bill have bombed at astonishing speeds back to the sunny south where absolutely nothing awaits them. And to be truthful, Joe had asked that Mom accompany him to support him in something pertaining to his crumbling marriage - a court date or a mediation appointment, I don't know exactly what - but Bill had objected and Mom made her choice. Joe will be facing Team Mary-ellen solo. Let's just be glad it isn't Cancer.

And then, a few days later, I get a text from Joe.

"Mary-ellen and I are trying a separation."